


What Goes Up

by LadyLondonderry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: IN SPACE!, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Outer Space, Panic Attacks, Pining, Space Stations, Teacher Harry, do you guys see where this is going, fear of space, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:56:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLondonderry/pseuds/LadyLondonderry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has always had a deep fear of anything space related. His boyfriend has always dreamed of becoming an astronaut. </p><p>The six month program at the space station means a very long distance relationship and a very nervous Harry back on earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Goes Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airportbar (paxamnights)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxamnights/gifts).



> Yooo so I don't know a lot about space but I did real research! For most of it, at least. I hope you like this!
> 
> Also, there's a large section of this that could be triggering as it insinuates major character death. Please take care and don't read if that's too painful/triggering for you!

A lot of people have fears that interfere with everyday life. A strong fear of snakes may stop someone from hiking. A fear of spiders could lead to someone screaming for their flat mate to come help because they’re afraid to move. Harry’s close friend Zayn has a fear of water that means he’s never been able to fully enjoy their summer trips to the beach. 

Previously, Harry had always assumed that his deepest, darkest fear could stay bottled down inside of him forever, having no effect whatsoever on his life. It was a ridiculous fear anyway.

And then he met Louis.

Louis, who was wonderful and perfect and loved the stupid little things in life, like playing Flappy Bird long after it became unpopular, or selling off large chunks of his CD collection to a used media store just to have the spare change to grab an ice cream on a hot day. 

Louis, who’s single most important dream in life was to go to space.

-

“Look at that one, Hazza!” Louis grabs his hand and drags him through the exhibits, around the corner to where they can get a proper look at what has caught Louis’s eye.

Harry gazes up at the model of the planets laid out proportionally to one another across the black painted ceiling. He marvels at how Louis had managed to locate the tiny Pluto model in the next room over and immediately came to the conclusion that the rest would be nearby.

He glances over at Louis, who is counting all the tiny moons orbiting around Jupiter, as if looking for a mistake. His concentration face is absolutely adorable, and Harry wants to pinch his little cheeks.

He also doesn’t particularly want to look back up at the planets above them. They make him dizzy and, even as models that he _knows_ are clearly just recreations, they make him feel a little sick to his stomach.

The thing is, space is simply too big for Harry. It terrifies him, the idea that space can just go on and on forever out there. All these planets that he’s been learning about since he was a kid – they’re so much bigger than they look in the books, even Pluto, which people describe as tiny. It freaks him out and he rally doesn’t like to think about it for too long.

Louis could think about it for hours, though. Probably has.

For their one-month anniversary, Louis had written him a poem where he compared Harry to the lovely rings of Saturn. Harry gave Louis flowers.

For their six-month anniversary, Louis took Harry to the planetarium. Harry took a lot of deep breaths and closed his eyes when he was sure Louis wasn’t looking. Then made them dinner afterward.

For their one-year anniversary, Louis has surprised Harry with a trip to the British National Space Centre. Something inside Harry bemoans the fact that he has yet to tell Louis his crippling fear of space.

It’s just that… at the beginning of their relationship, when Harry learned Louis’s dream was to go to space himself, he didn’t want to put their tenuous new relationship in jeopardy by professing that his one real fear in life is Louis’s one true dream. Then, the more time passed, the weirder it would seem if he said it. Especially now, a year into goodnight kisses, weekly stargazing dates (which Harry “falls asleep” for or gets “transfixed by Louis’s eyes” for), and emotionally supporting Louis through his space engineering degree… It’s just been too long. Harry has accepted he may be living this lie for the rest of his life. Maybe he’ll even get over his fear at some point; looking up at the night sky certainly doesn’t make him want to vomit _quite_ as much as it used to. That’s a good sign, right?

“Come on, Hazza, we can’t miss the show! It’s in five minutes and all the way on the other side of the building!”

Harry allows himself be pulled along after Louis as he leads them through exhibit room after exhibit room to make it on time to a show about the use of the current space program. Harry is absolutely certain that Louis already knows absolutely everything that’s going to be said in the show, but he humours him anyway.

-

“So… I’ve got some news.”

As is tradition, Harry’s part of the anniversary date is to take Louis out to dinner, and so they’ve wound up at a nice little Italian place just around the corner from the Space Centre. Last anniversary he had taken them to a German bar with connected _biergarten_ , but figured that this time they didn’t want to be drunk off their arses by eight o’ clock (because Louis’s quite the lightweight and once he gets drunk he insists on Harry drinking at least half of each of his drinks).

“What sort of news?” Harry asks. He’s pretty sure that Louis’s finally found a job for after graduating university in just under a month; after putting in application after application he had become incredibly chipper about a week ago and had refused to let on as to why.

“It’s, well, very exciting news…” Louis adjusts his glasses, which he has always tended to do as a nervous habit. He has contacts but rarely wears them because _You can’t wear contacts in **space** , Harry!_, and he wants to be prepared for that distant future.

“Yeah?” Harry tries to convey his excitement for whatever this news is with his mouth stull stuffed with linguini.

Louis’s smile is so wide Harry starts to wonder if he’s bought a star and named it Larry (as he had once confessed to wanting after a night out with a lot of alcohol.”

“See, the British have decided to put forward some investment in the International Space Program for the first time in _history_ \- they must have gotten the essays I sent to them about international space diplomacy, Hazza – and so there’s this new program starting in just a few months to send a few UK engineers specializing in space up to the station for a six month project-“

Harry can see where this is going now. Louis is looking at him as if he’s just been given all the riches in the universe, and probably to Louis this is even better than all that. He tries to compose himself, but something inside makes him feel like he’s going to be swallowed whole.

“-They chose me! I’m going to _space_ , Harry!”

Harry tries his hardest not to vomit.

-

The morning before he leaves finds the sun just reaching over the horizon and spilling through their old, cracked and broken blinds. Louis’s arms are secure around him, their legs twined together under the sheets, because although it’s technically almost summer, this is Britain and every day starts out cold and misty.

Harry savours the time he has, having woken up before Louis (a normal occurrence) and tries to quell his rising anxiety, his fear that this is the last time he ever sees Louis. It’s not realistic, he tells himself. People made it to the moon and back in the sixties, and this time it’s just to the space station. They wouldn’t send him on something _dangerous_. 

His fears, however, insist that space is infinite and once Louis is up there, he’s gone forever. There’s no _end_ to space and what if they get _lost_ or run out of fuel or _food_ or something _else_ goes wrong-

In his panic he hadn’t realised how tightly he was clutching onto Louis’s arm, who rumbles and moves in his sleep until he’s laying more on top of Harry than next to him. “Hazza…” he murmurs out, and Harry isn’t entirely sure if he’s awake or just sleep talking until, “’M gonna be gone for six months, how about a quickie to remember me by, eh?”

And he laughs at that, but he also wants to cry a bit.

-

It turns out, wifi is actually quite good in space.

Harry thanks his lucky stars for that, because if nothing else the constant communication with Louis at least alleviates his fears just a little bit. They text a _lot_ , through WhatsApp of all things, because it’s wifi based and at this point Harry thinks if they were texting instead his phone company would be ringing him up to ask if he’s okay with the near constant messages he’s sending.

Everything is just so _weird_ without Louis here, and the messages make it seem at least a little more normal.

At work, Zayn likes to make fun of him for just how worried he is. They’ve been friends since primary so Harry long ago confided his fear of space with him. Zayn, rudely enough, likes to laugh off his fears for Louis. It does help a little in the long run, though.

“Let me get this straight, you’re afraid the space station is just going to float away and never be seen again?”

“Yes, shut _up_ Zayn this is serious!”

Zayn ruffles his hair. “I think you missed those classes on gravity, Harry. That thing is pretty stuck. As is your boy.”

Harry blushes. It’s been a little over a year since he and Louis started going out and he still gets flustered over telling people they’re together.

The bell rings, signalling they need to hoof it back to their prospective classrooms to beat their kids in from recess, so Harry and Zayn cut their small talk short. Quick before his kids complain about having his phone out during class, Harry gets it out of his pocket and sends a quick message.

_**Harry:** Zayn says Hi! :) :) Connor threw up during maths this morning and Amie tried to use the bathroom pass four times in one hour so she could sneak out and play with her new dinosaur erasers. Xx_

He doesn’t see the responding text until an hour later when the kids are at art:

_**Louis:** These kids clearly have bright futures ahead of them. Hope you don’t get whatever Connor has!_

and then,

_**Louis:** Going to sleep, the sun’s finally gone! See you in six hours!_

-

One month into Louis being in space, and the most important thing Harry has realised is that _in space, there is no privacy._

Especially when it comes to the one time they tried to have Skype sex, but that shall never be discussed again.

Today it’s just after dinner when Harry opens up the Skype call from Louis.

“Baaaabe,” Louis calls, his happy face appearing on the screen. “I miss you! Tell me everything! We haven’t Skyped in days!”

Harry’s texted him every ten minutes or so, but it’s nice to know he’s not the only needy one here.

“I’m good,” Harry smiles warmly. As long as he’s not thinking about how Louis is suspended in the middle of pure nothingness, he can just pretend he’s on a foreign exchange trip to France. “How are things today? Did you finally get over that headcold?”

Louis sniffles a little indignantly. “No! And I don’t even know how I got it – it’s not like anyone else up here is sick, and it can’t have travelled all the way from Earth or something!”

Harry feels his smile widening. This has been a point of contention between the two of them for quite some time. “You know, it could be that you have… allergies…”

“No!” Louis snaps immediately. “Of course not, that’s ridiculous!” He pouts a little, running a hand through his mussed hair. He doesn’t fix his glasses so much any more, only because he’s tied them on with string so they don’t float off (“we’ve still got gravity, Hazza, it’s just that we’re all falling around the earth so it’s like we’re floating).

A voice from off screen chimes in a moment later with a thick Irish accent. “Uh-huh, and what plants are blooming right now?”

Louis grumbles a little and eventually relents, “…there’s some tulips that’ve just opened. For the first time! No one has ever grown tulips in space before!”

And suddenly he goes from a little sad to as happy go lucky as ever. As much as Harry hates space, he does love how happy it makes Louis.

“I hope you’re drinking enough tea then,” Harry chides. He wishes Louis were here so Harry could serve him tea just the way he likes it.

“He is!” the off screen voice chimes in again before a face with a shock of blond hair becomes visible behind Louis. “We’re way down on our stock too, had to send for some more last week because we’re going to run out months ahead of schedule! Hi Harry!”

Harry waves at the screen. This happens at least once every Skype call.

“Niall, budge off,” Louis complains, elbowing his friend out of the way, who shrugs and floats harmlessly a few feet off.

“Hey,” Niall says excitedly, clearly unbothered by Louis. “Harry, what’s happening on the latest episode of Girls? I can’t find anywhere to download it and I need to know!”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Skype him yourself, you loser. Don’t interrupt my call with my boy!”

Niall giggles and Harry flushes a happy red. Unfortunately, Niall glances at the screen and sees the look in Harry’s eye. “Oh no, is this one of those days? Are you going to try Skype sex again? I can leave.”

“You _won’t_ though,” Louis growls, pushing him more forcefully this time. “You’ll be a total weirdo about it like last time, which we said we were never bringing up again! Didn’t Rory say you and him were going to go do tests in the east wing this afternoon?”

After he’s successfully shooed Niall off, they have a couple more minutes to themselves before Harry has to get to bed. 

“Bye Boo, miss you.” Harry sends a kiss to the screen, not even caring how cheesy he looks.

“Bye Hazza, just five more months until we get to do this in person!”

Harry signs off and then sits in his - _their_ \- darkened living room. Five months.

-

Christmas is weird.

“Harry, you’ve just got to make it through another three days and you’re off for break, c’mon you can do it.”

Harry groans, his head still face down on his desk. Zayn nudges his shoulder again. “C’mon, all you need to do is put on a nice Christmas movie for the kids and fake some holiday cheer for me. You can do that, can’t you?”

Harry groans again but his head shoots up when a ping sounds from his phone.

“Of course,” Zayn deadpans. “You won’t move for me, but for your stupid space boyfriend you’re up immediately.”

Louis has send him a picture of the most horribly wrapped package Harry has ever seen floating next to him. 

_**Louis:** You’ll never guess what I got you this year! It’s definitely not a space rock!_

It’s probably a space rock.

Harry doesn’t realise Zayn is reading over his shoulder until he says, “Did he get you a space rock?”

“Probably,” Harry says, and he means it to come out exasperated but it just comes out fond. Damn it.

“Are you guys going to Skype for Christmas then?” Zayn asks. 

Harry nods sullenly. “Not much else we can do. He’s spending his birthday in outer space and I’m left here to do all the Christmas shopping. That wanker just didn’t want to have to find things for his sisters.”

He wipes surreptitiously at his eyes, and he’s pretty sure that Zayn notices but doesn’t comment.

“You should send him a rock from Earth,” Zayn says. “Or like, a piece of brick or some shit.”

Harry laughs. “I don’t think I can technically send him anything.”

“No?” Zayn looks thoughtful. “I mean you told me they had to send up extra tea because he’s been drinking it all. Why not see if they’ll add a Christmas present on their next flight?”

“I mean, the launch pad is in like, Florida or summat, in the States. I don’t think it’s worth mailing a piece of brick to America so they can chuck it into space.” Harry shivers at the concept. Chucking anything at all into space sounds like a nightmare. 

Zayn pats him on the shoulder as he stands. “Well, he’ll be back by the end of January, right? That’s not too long.”

Harry thinks it’s much too long, but he goes along with it. The next week when they Skype for Louis’s birthday, Harry does it surrounded by Louis’s sisters so that it can seem like one big gathering. It’s honestly not as weird as he was expecting it to be. After they all say their farewells and Harry shuts down his Mac, they hand around the presents. Harry hands out all the ones that Louis picked out over WhatsApp while Harry walked through the mall sending pictures of what he thought they’d like. He even gets a few back from Jay and one that she says is from Louis.

He opens the one from her to find a nice lilac cable knit sweater.

He opens the one from Louis to find a rock.

Harry feels the need to roll his eyes so far into his head that they’ll reach the depths of his soul. 

On the back of the rock is a note typed up and taped to it.

_Hazza,_

_I couldn’t get you a real space rock because we actually don’t have those at the space station. Which is too bad, I think. We should work on that. Instead I asked my mum to find a rock to make it LOOK like I got you a space rock, even though I really didn’t. I promise I’ll get you one some day. Until then, here’s a reminder that I’ll be home in time for your birthday, and maybe I’ll even bring you a space tulip. Or space parsley, that’s doing really well here. The earth is pretty from up here, but not nearly as pretty as you are. Miss you Hazza Bear!_

Harry thinks he’s been tearing up too damn much this past week or so, but at least today Jay is kind enough to wordlessly pull him in for a hug, no questions asked.

-

Two weeks before Louis is supposed to come home, it all goes to shit.

Harry has brought his laptop to the library, plugged in his headphones and opened up a Skype session with Louis; they both have a lot of paperwork to get done, of completely different things of course, and decided they might as well spend a bit of time together while they’re at it. Harry, being a respectful member of the community, doesn’t talk more than one word whispers here and there. Louis, on the other hand, is sequestered in his sleeping quarters in the station and is willing to shout and swear as much as possible to make Harry laugh while he’s supposed to be working.

“And THEN, Harry, did you hear Niall? That FUCKER! THEN he said that we should be playing checkers instead of chess because chess is for old men and I’m just here like, you FOOKIN LOOSAH! You don’t even KNOW how to play chess! And you play GOLF for FUN! What an OLD MAN GAME YOU LOOSAH!”

Harry huffs out a quiet laugh, although he’s mostly able to tune out what Louis is saying. He’s got about a dozen tests to grade and a number of five paragraph essays about winter vacation to add comments on. Whatever Louis was working on he clearly gave up long ago.

“But since we’re on the station, I can’t even properly THROW things at him, you know? So I have to grab his arm and then with my other hand launch the chess board at him because otherwise I’ll never actually hit him, right? And ANYWAY it doesn’t really work so now there’s chess pieces EVERYWHERE-“

It takes Harry a minute to notice the silence on the other end of the Skype call. It does tend to randomly cut out once in a while, or Niall will sneak by and put it on mute just to mess with Louis if he’s getting really into whatever story he’s telling, but this is like neither of those things. When Harry next looks up, he sees the little symbol that means the call has been disconnected. That’s odd. He calls Louis again, but Louis doesn’t pick up. It’s actually says Louis is offline.

Louis is _never_ offline.

Which, it could be nothing, right? Maybe Louis knocked over his laptop while he was animatedly retelling the story. That’s the sort of thing he would have done. Which means his phone should still be on him, right?

Harry gets out his phone and sends a message over WhatsApp

_**Harry:** Did you just kill your laptop?_

He waits for a minute but the green check for _read_ never pops up. He pockets his phone and then unpockets it, looking again to see if he’s seen it now.

He doesn’t know what to do. What _can_ he do? What if something’s happened?

And with that thought, the spiral of fear starts.

Anything could have happened. Something went wrong with the airlock, or a fire, or a passing meteor or comet or a fucking planet or something could have hit them. What if Louis’s dying right now and Harry doesn’t know because he’s stuck down here on earth and doesn’t have any kind of connection? He has a thought and tries to WhatsApp Niall (who insisted Harry add him as well a couple months back, and then proceeded to send him golf stock photos for four days straight). Niall’s little _read_ checkmark doesn’t pop up either. 

Harry has to spend a fair amount of time steading his breathing so that it doesn’t ramp up into a panic attack in the middle of the public library. He stuffs everything he came with into his bag and, as calmly as he can with his heart hammering in his chest like it wants to break free, he gets to his car and makes the five minute drive home to his house.

Good, now he can panic for real.

He opens his laptop on the table in the living room just to see that disconnected Skype sign again. He turns on his phone just to see they haven’t read his texts.

He can’t help thinking about it now, all those thoughts that he’s been pushing down for so long. Space is huge and endless, it’s a void and Louis has been up there in that void for five months. Why did he think that would be a good idea? Why did Harry ever let him leave? Louis, the love of his life, the only one who can correctly set up the Blu Ray player, the one who blows air into his ear canal to wake Harry up, the one who drinks his tea and then pours Harry’s tea into his much when he thinks Harry isn’t looking, Harry’s Louis is up there somewhere, probably trapped, probably scared and alone with no way back down. That is, if he’s even still alive.

Harry would know if he’s not alive, right? There has to be some sort of magical connection for people who are meant to be, like he and Louis _clearly are_ that would tell him if Louis wasn’t still up there right now. Right?

No, of course not. This isn’t a fucking fantasy. Who _knows_ where Louis is? Certainly not Harry. Because Louis could be anywhere. Space is endless and Louis, for all Harry knows, could be in any corner of it.

And wherever he is, Harry isn’t with him.

-

He falls asleep at some point, and when he wakes up again, nothing’s changed. Not Skype and not WhatsApp. Harry calls off work.

-

Zayn shows up the next afternoon. Harry’s moved from the couch only to piss and to drink a couple glasses of water. He’s spent some time not entirely sure whether he’s awake or not.

Zayn rubs his back for a while and promises that everything will be all right, that something probably just happened to the station wifi or something. Harry laughs humourlessly. He remembers Louis assuring him months ago that the wifi will never crap out because they were literally able to see the satellite that sends the signals.

Then he starts to cry.

He cries into Zayn’s shirt for a long time because he doesn’t know what happens without Louis. Nothing, _nothing_ can happen without Louis. Life isn’t life without Louis.

When Zayn leaves, it’s with Harry’s extra key and a promise to bring actual food next time he comes.

-

At some point the next day, Harry throws his phone at the wall.

-

He doesn’t sleep well.

If he sleeps at all.

-

The first thing Harry registers is a knocking on the front door.

Zayn has a key, Harry thinks vaguely. He doesn’t need to knock.

The knocking persists.

Rising from the couch feels like a momentous feat. Harry knows he looks like shit. He stinks. He hasn’t showered since, well, since before the library.

He makes his way to the door and composes himself. He hopes it’s not his family, come to say they’ve heard news. He doesn’t know how well he’ll handle news.

He unbolts the door and opens it inward, blinking at the harsh light.

The harsh light and a head of caramel coloured hair.

Harry stares.

Louis stares back.

For a moment, Harry ponders if he’s dead, and this is some beautiful version of heaven. But then Louis speaks.

“Hazza,” he says and how Harry missed that voice, the sound of autumn leaves and morning sunlight.

“Hazza, are you okay? Has something happened?”

He’s looking up at Harry with such sincere worry, the bag he took on the shuttle still on his back, and Harry still isn’t processing clearly. Because this is _Louis_. Louis is _here_.

His face crumples, as does his body, as Harry wraps his arms around Louis and begins to sob into his shoulder. 

Louis hugs back just as tight, and Harry realises after a moment that Louis is slowly shuffling them into the house so he can shut the door behind them. Harry lets himself be moved; he’ll let Louis do anything for the rest of his life as long as he takes Harry with him.

Louis sits them down on the couch, still clutching at each other, and moves one hand up to card it soothingly through Harry’s hair.

“Shhh, Hazza, baby, just tell me what’s wrong. I’ll make it better, okay? I’m home, I’ll make it all better.”

Harry wants to tell him that he thought he lost him, that he’s still afraid this is a fever dream and Louis will be gone in an instant, that space is literally the worst thing in the world and Harry has been dry heaving for days even at the thought of Louis lost and alone up there. But he can’t stop crying, tears soaking into Louis’s shirt and dehydrating him even more than he probably already is.

Louis doesn’t stop whispering reassurances to him though, that whatever went wrong is fixable, and that everything will be okay, and before Harry can even attempt a coherent reply, he manages to cry himself to sleep, finally safe in Louis’s arms.

-

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Have you seen you? I’ve never seen anyone in my life more excited about space than you are. I’m not sure I would have.”

“Yeah, but… He tells me _everything_.”

Harry wakes slowly, still not entirely sure of his surroundings or of who the voices belong to. But he remembers Louis, and the warmth enveloping him certainly feels like a Louis kind of warmth.

He opens his eyes and wants to groan at the level of pounding going on in his head. The voices stop and he realises that maybe he actually did groan.

“Hazza Baby,” says the shifting weight under him, lifting his upper half into a sitting position. “You need to drink something, here.”

A glass is put in his hand, although looking down, everything is still a little fuzzy. Still, he does as the Voice Who Is Probably Louis commands and brings it to his cracked lips, downing all of it at once and only coughing a little after.

“Good, now lay back down. I think you’ve made yourself sick this week.”

That sounds like a much better idea. He finds that his eyes are closing again and he’s settling back against that weight that is probably Louis. It is Louis, isn’t it?

-

The next time he wakes up, it’s dark out and the house is silent. He feels much more alive this time, and sort of like he needs to piss, but more important is the boy spooning him from behind on the couch.

He spins himself over fast enough that he makes himself a little dizzy and bonks Louis on the nose with his elbow, startling him awake.

Louis lets out an expletive and clutches his nose for a minute before taking in the boy now staring at him.

Harry isn’t sure what to say now. Louis is alive and not dead and _here_ , what does he say to that?

Louis beats him to it, though – “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Harry blanches. “Tell you what?” 

He knows what.

“That you’re terrified of space!”

Harry looks down. He plays with the hem of his shirt. He plays with the hem of Louis’s shirt. “It… didn’t come up.”

Louis sighs. “Of course it didn’t. Not with me yapping on about it and taking university courses on it and spending the last six months with your boyfriend _living in it._ ”

“Well yeah,” Harry says. “How am I supposed to bring it up after that? I didn’t want you to just stop talking about the one thing you clearly love most in the world!”

Louis’s expression switches to that sort of gooey fondness that he gets when he’s watching Harry talk about his kids in class, or explaining something about space that Harry doesn’t quite get. “Babe… space isn’t what I love most in the world.”

Harry looks taken aback but it clicks and he rolls his eyes. “If you say it’s me then I am ending this conversation right here.”

Louis’s face breaks into a grin and he plants one giant kiss on the end of Harry’s nose. “Too bad! It IS you!” He kisses him twice more, just to get his point across.

“Then what happened?” Harry asks after all the kisses. “Why did you stop replying?” Just the memory of what he thought happened makes him feel sad again.

“Niall knocked into our wifi hub,” Louis says, snuggling down into Harry’s arms (right where he should be, Harry thinks). He literally broke the thing, so the only contact we had with the station back in Florida was this morse code thing that only Rory knew how to use. So he was wiring down exactly what we needed to fix it, but the next shuttle that brought supplies up to fix it was the one that we took home. So I couldn’t send anything until I was on the ground in Florida, and you weren’t checking your phone.” He looks sad so Harry hugs him tighter. “I seriously can’t believe you spent six months with me in space and never told me you’re, like, afraid of it!”

Harry nuzzles into his hair. “Just don’t go back for a while, okay?”

Louis laughs quietly. “Oh, don’t worry. After Niall knocked out the wifi, I don’t know if they’re inviting us back up there again.”

-

The next morning, when Harry finally gets around to turning his phone back on, he sees several texts from Louis and Zayn, as well as one from Niall.

_**Niall:** For the record, I’m actually still in space. Louis got really homesick when the wifi cut out and insisted on coming back early. Tell him I said hi, and that we definitely need a golf rematch sometime when we have actual gravity._

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me at [LondonFoginaCup](londonfoginacup.tumblr.com) on Tumblr! And if you're so inclined, reblog my [Fic Post](http://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com/post/158830697454/what-goes-up-ladylondonderry-louisharry)!


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